Internal Affairs
by Baker-Street-Potter-Head
Summary: It's London 1888 and Sherlock Holmes, the famous detective, is fresh into his arranged marriage. His family is currently embroiled in a bitter rivalry with the Hooper family who have recently announced Molly's engagement. After much chasing, Sherlock and Molly give in to their passion and begin an illicit affair. All this occurring whilst trailing a vicious serial killer...
1. Changing Times

_Hello and welcome to my new story. After I mentioned this on Tumblr, I decided it was too good to resist, despite having several other unfinished stories :s xx I apologise and am working on them all ;) This is a Jack the Ripper story so...warning for violence. Thank you so much and I hope you like this… xx_

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_Friday 31__st__ August 1888_

It was fast approaching midnight and the streets of London were emptying quickly as people rushed to their homes. Several women still staggered about the streets, calling and whistling to the men they passed. A lone woman strolled past a particularly loud group as she hurried down the road, avoiding looking behind her as she went. She rounded the corner, her heels clacking on the ground fiercely as she entered the street: Whitechapel.

* * *

"Do you understand, Sherlock? This is important to me! Do try and get on with the Hoopers tonight, especially Mr. Hooper's daughter. She has just become engaged and I wish this to go well, that is why I have organised this wretched evening…to win favour with them once and for all."

Sherlock Holmes nodded in frustration at his brother who quickly disappeared into the growing crowd. Sherlock sighed; it was getting late and none of them had arrived yet. **Typical of the Hoopers to be late. **The Hooper and Holmes families had had a bitter rivalry for years and the party tonight was an effort to make peace...and for Mycroft Holmes, an effort to seal some kind of government deal. It was to celebrate the engagement of Mr. Hooper's daughter, Molly, to an honest, hardworking man that Sherlock hadn't been bothered to learn the name of. Mycroft had given Sherlock strict instructions not to ruin the celebrations, particularly by insulting Molly or her betrothed.

Sherlock scowled as he accepted a drink from a passing waiter; parties were not really his thing. He preferred to be holed up in his flat with an interesting case to work on. Unfortunately, the Inspector had nothing for him lately. Sherlock sighed as he noticed his wife, Sarah, dancing with a guest, as were Mycroft's instructions. He rolled his eyes, laughing to himself at her attempts to illicit a jealous response. Sarah had fallen hard for him but Sherlock found her to be excitable and rather obnoxious and self-centred. She had tried and failed on multiple occasions to seduce him and his excuse of 'workload' never seemed to settle with her. She also irritated Sherlock's flatmate, Doctor John Watson, when she insisted he 'move on'. Sherlock had, naturally, been adamant he stay until he found his own wife. Sarah had not been happy; getting her husband into bed was going to be a lot harder when he is distracted this way. Sherlock found this to be the perfect excuse, however. Sarah pulled the man she was dancing with over to a corner and began to laugh loudly, frowning when she noticed Sherlock wasn't even paying attention.

* * *

The woman pushed the doors to the pub open cautiously and held her head high as she approached the bar, ignoring the stares from other pub-goers. The barman frowned as he looked the woman up and down, shaking his head.

"Sorry, ma'am, we'll be 'aving none of your lot in 'ere tonight, thank ya…"

The woman frowned and slapped a small bag of coins onto the counter and smiled brightly.

"I'd like a bed, sir. It's been a good night…"

She winked proudly and the barman rolled his eyes. The man picked up the bag and examined the coins before shaking his head once more, throwing the bag of coins back at her.

"Sorry, ma'am, you're lacking fourpence…"

The woman tucked the coins away and ignored the sniggering men in the corner of the room as she turned on her heels. Once at the door, she whipped around to face the barman, who voice loud and harsh.

"You'll see…I'll be back…I'll make my money tonight, you'll see…"

The barman nodded sarcastically as the woman turned to the sniggering men and blew them a kiss. The men exchanged nervous glances as the woman turned pushed the door open and went out into the cold street once more.

* * *

The room went silent as the Hoopers entered the hall. Mycroft signalled to the orchestra to continue playing and straightened his tie as Mr. Hooper approached with his daughter and her fiancé close behind. Sarah moved to stand beside Sherlock and slipped her arm into his, smiling coyly. Sherlock sighed deeply and Mycroft grinned extraordinarily fakely. He extended his hand which Mr. Hooper – a tall, moustachioed, well-dressed man – took with a slightly disgusted look.

"Good evening, sir. I trust your journey here was pleasant?"

Mr. Hooper nodded and shook his head towards the butler, who was trying to remove his outer garments. He glanced around, humming to himself.

"Indeed. It's good to see you have changed this place around, Holmes. I was starting to think this place was 'run down'." Mr. Hooper spotted Sherlock and Sarah and tutted under his breath. "Ah, the younger Mr. Holmes…delighted to see you again…and who is this charming lady on your arm?"

Sherlock smirked slightly before 'proudly' gesturing to Sarah.

"Sir, I'd like you to meet my…wife, Sarah…"

Molly had moved next to her father now and was looking Sarah up and down. **Hmmm, a fine-looking woman, indeed. Then again, no Holmes would settle for less. **Her father took Sarah's hand and kissed it respectfully. Sarah released a loud, high-pitched laugh. Molly bit her lip to keep from laughing herself and Sherlock tapped her shoulder to shut her up. Sherlock cleared his throat and gestured towards the man on Molly's arm, who was staring at her lovingly.

"Yes, yes. Who is this…uh, fine-dressed fellow with your tonight, _my lady._"

Molly shivered at the way he had said the last part, his eyes shining wickedly. Luckily, no one noticed this and Molly patted her fiancé's arm.

"Mr. Holmes, _Mrs. _Holmes and Mr. Holmes, I'd like to introduce Thomas Jones…my fiancé."

Mycroft raised his eyebrows and leapt forwards and grasped the young man's hands, shaking vigorously.

"Mr. Jones…you're William Jones' boy, are you not? Your father is a legend…rich and powerful…" The party were staring in shock at Mycroft who immediately gathered himself. "Delighted to make your acquaintance, sir, delighted indeed. Would you like a drink?"

Before Thomas could get a word in, Sarah sprang forwards; her tight bun was beginning to come loose and her make-up was in disarray. She had begun swaying as well, due to her excess drinking.

"How about a dance? What kind of hosts would we be if we didn't offer our entertainment?"

Thomas, with a glance towards Molly, stepped forwards and bowed low. He straightened and took Sarah's hand, leading her to the middle of the room. Mr. Hooper frowned and took a deep breath as Sarah practically screamed with laughter; a frightened look was beginning to settle on Thomas' face now. He turned to Mycroft and smiled.

"Right, to business, then. Is there a place we could talk? I'd rather not discuss government affairs in the company of an officer of the law if you don't mind…"

Sherlock frowned as Mycroft began leading him away. He called after them that he was not a policeman but in fact a consulting detective. He turned around and realised he was alone…with Molly Hooper, of all people. Sherlock sighed as they shot each other fake smiles. **It's going to be a long night. **They were still staring at each other. **…with any luck.**

* * *

The woman continued down the street, desperately searching for someone…_anyone_, to earn money from. No such luck. She stopped at the end of Whitechapel and breathed deeply. She watched from across the street as her old 'group' called to some young men. The men turned out to be policemen and turned the women away before returning to their duties. The woman sighed, determined not to spend another night sleeping rough. She decided to move down the road she came down, hoping the men had finished in the pub now.

* * *

Sherlock frowned; an unusual feeling had settled in the pit of his stomach. Molly was fiddling with her gloved hands, trying to focus properly until Sherlock grabbed her and pulled her roughly into the middle of the room, earning him curious glances from Thomas and Sarah. Sherlock and Molly began twirling and spinning around the room like the other couples, trying not to draw to much attention to themselves. After stopping them in a dark corner of the room, Sherlock lowered his voice; as far as he was aware, no one had seen them.

"That gown is very…lovely, my lady. Beautiful, in fact."

Molly smiled up at him, moving closer. Sherlock held his breath as her hand rested on his arm.

"Thank you, sir. Thomas acquired it for me…an engagement present, you might say."

Sherlock scowled before brushing it aside quickly. He smiled widely, leaning in also, moving towards her ear.

"I must say, the two of you looked very comfortable…"

Molly twitched nervously before moving away, smirking slightly. Sherlock blinked at her shocking movement.

"He is my fiancé, Holmes and if you remember, we hate each other, don't we?"

Sherlock smiled to himself as Molly moved towards the hallway and upstairs. Sherlock bit back his growing smile and paused. **One…two…three…nine…ten…ready or not…**

* * *

"Damn it."

The woman watched as the men were thrown out of the pub, moving away and shouting boisterously. The barman shivered as he saw them off, slamming the big door behind him and bolting it from the inside. The woman began to slowly walk down the district of Whitechapel, looking for a suitable doorway or alleyway. A sound behind her made her whip around and hurry down the street quicker, unaware she was now being followed.

* * *

Sherlock saw the door to his old bedroom ajar and straightened his tie. He peered around the corner and sure enough, Molly was waiting for him…perched on the edge of his bed. Sherlock shut the door behind him and twisted the lock. **No interruptions, my dear.**

"We may be in rival families…but I'd be lying if I said it didn't desire you, my lady."

Molly released a frustrated sound before standing up and approaching him. She grasped his tie and moved backwards until her legs collided with the four poster, causing her to tumble backwards, Sherlock landing on top of her.

"Stop calling me that…you don't know what it does to me…"

He face was flushed and she was breathing rapidly. **This is forbidden, this is wrong in so many ways…it's…it's very naughty indeed. **Sherlock bit his lip and leaned in closer as Molly's lips parted for him.

* * *

The woman stopped, certain she heard something. She, however, didn't get a chance to turn around as she was grabbed and her mouth was muffled. She struggled as the perpetrator pulled her into an alleyway. She managed to elbow him in the stomach, but he held her firm and smacked her across the face. The woman saw in his hand a long blade, twirling between his gloved fingers. The woman sobbed desperately as she silently begged for someone to come along. The man dragged the blade twice across her throat and allowed her to slump to the ground, choking out her last breaths. Once they had ceased, the moved to her lower body, pulling her skirt up and raising the blade once more.

* * *

"Thomas is a good man, sir."

"Yes, but you don't _want _a good man, my lady. You crave excitement and…passion…all of which I can give."

Molly gently pushed at his chest and he carefully stood, pulling her with him. She had been teasing him, of course. This was the custom…neither had given the other anything as of yet. Molly straightened her gown and smiled deviously.

"Your move, sir."

Sherlock raised his eyebrow as Molly reached the door. Quick as flash and the smallest of movements later, Sherlock had Molly pinned against the door, gasping in delight.

"Oh, I am sorry, I thought you meant now…"

He stood away and smiled, pleased at how she whimpered as he did so. Sarah's unmistakeable laugh sounded from down the hall. Sherlock sighed and Molly scowled. He shook her hand, and kissed it carefully, putting as much care in it as he could.

"Until next time, my lady."

"I look forward to it, sir."

Sherlock pulled the door open and approached Sarah, leading her back downstairs therefore allowing Molly to slip out undetected. He caught her eye and winked cheekily, disappearing downstairs. Molly shook her head but couldn't keep the smile away.

* * *

_Ok, there we go. My knowledge is a little rusty and I hope it wasn't hideously embarrassing, lol :) Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. xx Please let me know what you thought and if you'd like me to continue, lol. Stay tuned, back soon? xx_


	2. The Ripper Strikes

_Hello again…well here we are, chapter 2 and things are intensifying ;) xx Without revealing anything else, on with the story… xx_

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Arriving at the top of the Whitechapel district, Detective Inspector Lestrade handed his driver the small amount of money due before approaching the scene. Several officers were already keeping people back and Lestrade could immediately tell it was out of the ordinary. He had been informed of a training could have prepared him for what he was about to see. A woman, mid-late 30's, was lying on her front, her skirts raised and a large pool of blood swimming around her. Lestrade turned to a young officer.

"Get Holmes…I don't care what it takes, I need him here…NOW!"

The young officer nodded enthusiastically and turned around, running towards Baker Street. Sherlock Holmes was well known around and often helped the police with their enquiries, even if it was against regulations. The young officer didn't stop until he reached the 221, panting and wheezing as he hauled himself up the stairs. The landlady smiled as she allowed him entry and he removed his hat. He paused outside flat B and listened to the voices.

"'ave an 'eart, sir. That's some good information, that is…"

The officer heard a deep sigh followed by the shuffling of feet.

"Yes, and I have paid you kindly. Keep up the good work and there is plenty more where that came from…away with you…"

"Thank ya, sir…goodbye ma'am…"

The door swung open and a scruffy looking boy hurried out, mumbling an apology to the officer before disappearing into the street. Sherlock rose to his feet and sighed, gesturing for the officer him to come inside. He swivelled his eyes around; the Doctor was reading the paper and Mrs. Holmes was lounging on her favourite chair, an annoyed expression on her face. Sherlock paced the room and spoke quickly.

"What is it?"

The officer, momentarily star-struck, cleared his throat and fiddled with his hat.

"A vicious murder, sir, the Inspector requested your presence immediately…"

Sherlock frowned and shook his head. John looked over the top of his paper and Sarah frowned.

"Hmmm…vicious, you say? I am not entirely sure my abilities will be fully appreciated…"

"No, please, sir…I know Whitechapel is far, but-"

"Whitechapel?"

The officer nodded and blinked in confusion as Sherlock's face lit up, a smile illuminating the entire room. John cleared his throat in an attempt to remind him of the situation and Sarah frowned even deeper. Sherlock licked his lips and spun around facing the officer.

"Lead the way, Officer…?"

"Uh…Johnson, sir. Benjamin Johnson…"

Sherlock nodded and gestured for John to join him. He approached the door and pulled on his jacket; John rose to his feet with a sigh and straightened his waistcoat, also taking his jacket. Sarah cleared her throat and adjusted herself, sticking her chest out and batting her eyelashes.

"I am sure the Inspector will understand this once, dear. Why don't you stay with your loving wife, the doctor can go…"

Sarah waved a hand towards John and displayed her most seductive pout. Sherlock rolled his eyes and pulled the door open, pushing the two men out of the door before him.

"My dear…uh…Sarah, you would not want stop the capture of a vicious murderer would you? I shall return soon…"

He shot her a fake smile and followed the men from the room and Sarah huffed when the door shut on her. **Next time, Sherlock Holmes...next time. **Sarah smiled to herself and rose to dress, twirling approached a cart and John lowered his voice to Sherlock.

"Why did you take the case when you found out where it was?"

Sherlock shrugged with a small smirk and John sighed. Soon enough, they arrived in Whitechapel and Lestrade waved them over. Sherlock strolled confidently forwards, John hesitating behind him and Lestrade greeted them with a sharp swallow and wince.

"Thanks for coming…I ought to warn you, it's not pleasant…according to the crowd, she was a local…erm, 'working girl' who called herself Jane…"

Sherlock nodded and John took a deep breath, cautiously stepping through the crowd. Sherlock frowned, crouching by the body with a magnifying glass in his hands. John, Lestrade, the other officers and the crowd watched as he darted around the body muttering to himself. When he finally straightened up and turned around, the other officers quickly returned to holding the crowd back. Sherlock rolled his eyes and gestured for them to come over.

"Doctor Watson, your expertise, if you please…"

John groaned as he too, crouched over the body, his eyes examining the wounds on her body. After a considerable amount of time, he straightened up and took a deep breath.

"She has multiple wounds to her abdomen, deep jagged gashes, I believe as well as two clean slices across her throat. Near instant death…I would stake my reputation that the wounds to her lower body occurred after death…"

Sherlock nodded and clasped his hands behind his back, walking around the body. He pointed to her skirts and tapped his chin in thought.

"She was sexually assaulted…that much is evident but the sheer brutality is most puzzling. Why murder an innocent prostitute?"

John buried his face in his hands and took several steps back and Lestrade shook his head, glancing behind him at the depleting crowd. He rubbed the back of his neck and John folded his arms as Sherlock spun around several times on the spot before smirking.

"I suggest, the best thing to do, is transport her to the mortuary…I can take a closer look there. In the meantime, conduct your investigations. Whitechapel is notorious for its gossip and its close community…maybe someone saw something…"

Sherlock was moving away from them as he spoke, his pace quickening with every word he spoke. Lestrade blinked in confusion before yelling in Sherlock's direction.

"Where are you going?"

"To conduct my _own _'ivestigations'."

He turned the corner and disappeared leaving the Doctor and Inspector feeling very confused. Lestrade huffed in frustration as he waved his team over and headed towards the pub, John following his steps.

* * *

Sherlock straightened his jacket and ruffled his hair as he tapped the heavy door. There was a shuffling before it was pulled open and a young maidservant was standing in the glamorous archway. Sherlock raised an eyebrow as she straightened her uniform.

"Begging your pardon, sir. I am afraid Miss Hooper is very busy and-"

"It is quite alright, I am an old friend…has Mr. Jones left for work?"

Sherlock had only just managed to hide his smirk as the young maid merely nodded, standing aside. **This will be interesting, to say the least. **She gestured upstairs and fiddled with her hands, awkwardly.

"I was just going to assist Miss Hooper with her dressing...um, you could-"

"That is quite enough…I shall assist Miss Hooper, I am sure there is something more useful you could be doing…"

The maid blinked in confusion before she gave a small curtsey and hurried towards the kitchen. A voice sounded from upstairs, kindly and sweet.

"I am ready, Patricia. There is no need to assist me…despite what Thomas thinks, I can dress myself…just hand me my lovely new dress and I'll do the rest…"

Sherlock smirked to himself and looked around before licking his lips and slowly climbing the stairs.

* * *

Lestrade scanned the nearly empty pub as John glanced around awkwardly. He approached the bar and removed his badge, speaking in an authoritative voice.

"Excuse me, sir…I'm Detective Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard and this is Doctor Watson…I'd like to ask you some questions…"

The barman glanced between the two men and placed the glass he was cleaning on the bar. He frowned and leaned against the wood, nodding at the two men.

"We are investigating a murder that took place not very far from your establishment…we were wondering if you heard or saw anything out of the ordinary, last night?"

The barman shrugged, his eyes swivelling between the two men.

"I keep myself to myself, sir…"

Lestrade narrowed his eyes and John cleared his throat, stepping forwards.

"That's all very well…but is there anything at all suspicious you noticed last night…"

The barman smiled and bit his lip before shrugging. Lestrade felt the similar feeling of regret fall into his stomach.

"There might be…'cept the thing is, sir...I ain't paid very much for what I do…know what I mean?"

Lestrade reached into his pocket and removed a small bag and tossed it at the barman, scowling in his direction. The barman picked it up and tutted slightly before pocketing it.

"Alright, now talk…"

The barman thought about pushing his luck but the Inspector didn't appear to be in the mood. He sighed and picked up the glass again.

"Well…I don't know nothing about a murder, but this woman…an 'ore, I think, came in about eleven and started shouting 'er mouth off…I thought nothing of it but that's all I know."

Lestrade sighed and John frowned, shifting uncomfortably and turning to leave. The barman let out an exclamation, suddenly.

"Oh, hang on…there's something else, actually…I'm not sure it'll 'elp but it's worth it, right? You look like you need all the 'elp you can get."

* * *

Sherlock carefully pushed the door open quietly and slipped in the room. He noticed her dress on the large bed and two thoughts ran through his mind. **Hmmm…you could hand her the dress and insist on 'dressing' her OR approach her and…well, you decide the rest for yourself. **Sherlock supressed a shiver as he picked up the gown, moving silently towards the wooden screen she was standing behind. He flung the dress over the top and Molly jumped, chuckling to herself.

"Oh, thank you, Patricia…I didn't hear you come in…"

Sherlock bit his lip as he ducked behind the screen. Molly shrugged and pulled the dress over the top, flicking her hair over her shoulders. Sherlock held his breath, his heart pounding uncontrollably.

"Thomas has a hard day ahead of him today…father is taking him to Mycroft to discuss business. Important, so I'm told…I just hope he doesn't run into the younger Holmes', dashing though he may be, he's a piece of work…"

Molly couldn't keep in her giggle and Sherlock couldn't resist any longer. He jumped to his feet and moved around the screen, his heart stopping as he realised she hadn't finished dressing yet. Sherlock smirked as he approached her slowly, gazing at her bare back. He gently placed his hands on her waist; Molly jumped from the contact but relaxed with a smile when she realised who it was.

"Hmmm…no corset, my lady?"

His voice was right next to her ear, his breath tickling her neck softly. She shivered as she noticed how low he was speaking. Molly bit her lip before managing to nod her head.

"Mmm, I don't like them…they're much too tight. I prefer to…just forget about them…"

Sherlock smirked as he leaned in closer, grazing his lips across her shoulders and slowly caressing her soft skin. He murmured softly against her as he spoke.

"Did you hear or see anything unusual last night?"

Molly shook her head, too breathless to speak and turned to face him, suddenly. They stood facing each other, staring into each other's eyes for a moment before Molly gave a sad smile.

"How is Sarah?"

Sherlock wrinkled his nose in disgust and shook his head.

"Utterly repulsive…her attempts at seduction are futile, she tries her hardest to illicit a response from me…but you, you do not need to try at all."

Molly blinked and her lips parted as Sherlock reached up and placed his hand on her cheek, stroking lightly. Sherlock took a deep breath and gave a light shake of his head.

"Sarah can buy every new piece of cloth on the market and parade around in it all day if she wishes…but the second you called me 'sir', I knew I would never be hers…"

Molly blinked rapidly for a moment before placing her hands on his chest. Sherlock rested his against her back and brought them up to her shoulders, pushing the heavy dress away slowly. The doors to the bedroom swung open and Sherlock ducked quickly. Thomas strode over to the bed, his back to the separator as Molly shrugged her dress back over her shoulders, trying to rid her flustered look.

"It's ghastly out there today…the whole street has been sectioned off. A woman has been murdered apparently. They were saying Sherlock Holmes was there…that he examined her! Can you imagine what that must have been like?"

Molly was nodding and she gasped when she felt Sherlock hoisting up her skirts, placing delicate soft kisses up her leg as he went…very slowly. **Um…yes, actually. **Molly's hands wound into his hair as she bit her lip tightly…but that didn't stop a moan from escaping. Thomas looked up from his papers and turned around.

"Are you alright, darling?"

Molly's eyes snapped open and her skirts fell to the floor as Sherlock backed away. Molly understood why now…Thomas was approaching her with a worried expression on his face. Sherlock turned the corner as Thomas embraced his fiancée, much less tenderly than Sherlock had only moments ago. He kissed her cheek and moved to do up her dress.

"Where is Patricia? I thought she was supposed to do this?"

Sherlock, who had been watching them with a pained expression, caught Molly's eye and winked before quietly leaving. Molly smiled widely before shrugging, her heart still hammering from Sherlock's touch.

* * *

"Well, then…what did you see?"

The barman coughed slightly as he looked around the bar.

"Well…I'm not sure it's much 'elp, but only moments before the woman showed up, there was someone 'anging around the end of the street. Real terrifying looking, 'e was…a proper presence about 'im. I'd never seen 'im before and 'e was just standing there, watching…staring, really…"

Lestrade glanced towards John and cleared his throat, removing his notes. Lestrade swallowed sharply before addressing the man once more.

"Did you get a good look at him?"

The barman nodded, licking his lips slightly.

"Oh yeah, sir…'e was tall, very tall and very thin, well-dressed, young, 'andsome as the ladies were telling me, proper sharp cheekbones, they were saying…and 'e 'ad curly black 'air…sorry, that's all I remember…"

Lestrade nodded as John finished scribbling the notes, his expression changing from awkward to that of horror. Lestrade gave the bartender a weak smile of gratitude and he and John left the establishment. Once in the street, Lestrade turned to John, both feeling shocked now.

"That sounded a lot like…"

John shook his head, thinking to himself. **No, Sherlock was at that party with Mycroft and the Hoopers'. He couldn't have…he didn't.**

* * *

_The plot thickens as they say…I hope you liked that chapter ;) Sorry about the length again, there was a lot to go in this one, lol :D xx Thank you so much for reading, there's plenty more to come. Stay tuned, back soon xx_


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